Not Gonna Cut It
by ubiquitousantiquitous
Summary: Harley gets two dangerous thoughts in her head: 1) What if Red doesn't have her powers forever? and 2) How can she protect her?


Anonymous: Fic prompt: Vines ain't always gonna cut it; Harley teaches Pam how to fight, good and proper. :)

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Interesting! It's kind of like buckling down and decided to teach a Bulbasaur something other than grass-type moves.

This one's short, but sweet! More under the cut.

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Once, and only once, Pam confided to Harley that she had been a very anxious child. It put so many things into perspective knowing that. Pam's love for plants was not only obsessive, but precise, bushes always had to be pruned and petals flowered and weeds pulled at precisely the same times every day. She wondered if Pam's tendency to chew the ends of her hair when lost in thought was a remnant of her childhood, or if her inability to use the word "love" toward anything that didn't have thorns was a byproduct as well.

Just finished with breakfast, she watched as Pam scrubbed away at the dishes. Morning light pooled in on her, and she sang softly to herself. To the untrained eye, she would appear totally at ease. Harley thought, though it could have been imagined, that her shoulders were too stiff, the motions of her arm scrubbing a plate were too robotic.

Knowing this fact, this vulnerability, filled Harley with a feeling she seldom got to have: protectiveness. Everyone in her life was so self-sufficient, or at least good at pretending to be (Selina), but Pam…Red was special. Harley finally had the chance to give something back to her. Harley finally had a way to make her feel safe.

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"A'RIGHT! Listen up, cadets—"

"What 'cadets'? I'm the only one in the room."

Pam, reclining on the floor of their foyer, watched Harley with curious eyes. Harley had requested her to wear athletic wear, something she knew Red did not own, so she lent her own T-shirt and gym shorts. Pam, being taller and, uh, _curvier _than Harley looked distractingly wonderful in the borrowed ensemble, but Harley trudged on.

"Today, you pipsqueaks are gonna learn what it's like to fight hand-to-hand!"

"Again, the only one in the room."

"These lessons will be very important if you lot are _ever _to make it out there on those streets!"

"Can't be that important if I'm the _only one here_," Pam sighed. "Is this foreplay for you? Is that why you cleared out the furniture? I don't like the floor, but I guess this gym mat you laid out will do nicely—"

"There's a war in our streets!" Harley paced, trying to think of lines inspired by something other than _Gangs of New York_. "And Batman's the one waging it!"

"Uh, Harley? We both know that Batman's been out in that Spacecave with the rest of the League for, like, the past six months. We just made a joke about Selina being in heat this morning, remember?"

"I'm still pretty fucking burned, too!" Selina stomped down the stairs, dressed in cut-off sweatpants and a hoodie with the sleeves rolled up. With her short hair, she almost passed for a rather pretty man. "Harls here is worried about you, Ives."

"My God, why now?" Pam's eyes went to the ceiling. "I didn't eat the last of the Haagen-Dazs, Harl. It was freezer burnt; it had to be thrown out."

"Are you shitting me?" Selina shot indignantly. "I was gonna have some of that with cake when we were done, now my whole evening's blown. Thanks."

"You rely too much on ya vines, Red." Harley knelt down to eye-level. She tried to keep her face steely, like the good general of an army she was, but her face being so close to Pam's made it hard to think. Especially when Pam leaned forward with her eyes lidded. "Pam! Not the time."

"Sorry," Pam eased back. "It was just a reflex because your face was so close to mine."

"Oh," Harley nodded. "Wait, you mean you would've kissed just anyone?!"

Selina hauled Harley back before she could reach for Pam's hair. "Whoa, down girl. Ease up. Ivy's just kind of a whore, we all knew this. It's not new information. Anyway, Pam, Harley seems to think that your combat skills need brushing up."

Pam snickered. "Okay…why?"

"What if ya woke up tomorrow and ya didn't have ya powers?" Righteous fury puffed Harley up like a hot air balloon. "And ya had to be normal? Wouldn't stop your enemies from comin' to get you! What would you do?"

"Well, I'd have you to protect me, so…" Pam trailed off, turning her head the other way in a blush.

Harley also turned her head the other way in a blush. "Gee, Selina, I guess that covers it. Let's get more ice cream."

"No way! This is valuable to the team, and you already paid me."

"She paid you for what?"

"Well, she didn't so much _pay _me as she did buy me a corndog, but it was a fee for helping her whip you into shape."

"Yeah, you said 'whip,' and now I'm back to not knowing if this is some kind of weird foreplay again."

"Shut the fuck up and stand, Isley."

"Fine," Pam got to her feet. "Now what?"

"Stand opposite Harley. Harley, assume a basic ready position."

Harley nodded and adopted a stance she was comfortable with—legs spread and planted for balance, arms raised in front of her, hands curled into fists, swaying back and forth so she was ready to lunge when needed. She listened as Selina gave her the basic rundown of a rollout, meaning that if Harley lunged, Pam would duck and flee. What sucked was that this was all stuff Pam used to know and use, not as much as Harley, but over the years she'd taken to relying more on her powers to fight.

"Wait a damn minute—Pam, are you listening to me, or are you staring at Harley's boobs?"

"If I'm being perfectly honest, it's the latter." Pam shrugged, hardly apologetic. "Honestly, Harl, the mat's right there."

"Goddamn it, Pam." Selina pinched the bridge of her nose.

"No, it's a'right, Selina." Harley traced the outline of her sports bra, smiling down at her chest. "Mama and the girls are lookin' fine today, it ain't Pam's fault."

"F…" Harley didn't know why Selina bit back a curse when she had been cursing until now. "Okay, forget stances. Harley, show Pam how to flip someone. It's the easiest way to throw someone off guard."

"You guys act like I don't know this," Pam rolled her eyes.

"Then why don't you use it? It's Gotham Survival 101 for people like us." Selina had her hands on her hips now, glaring at Pam. "I recall a time when you could twirl and dance in the air almost as good as Harley here, throw a punch meaner than Batgirl's, but you don't even use basic gymnastics anymore. You've gotten lazy."

"I have _not_." Pam's hands balled into fists. Harley was beginning to think this was a mistake. "You two would never understand."

"Understand what?" Harley asked, but Pam immediately shut up. She hated when she did this, completely shut her out when Harley asked the right questions. Harley's experience in the psychiatric field had been brief, but Red was the toughest case she'd ever faced.

"Prove it; try and stop Harley from flipping you. Shouldn't be that hard, considering you guys probably only have about a fifteen-pound difference between you two."

"Hey!" Harley and Ivy shouted at once.

Selina laughed. "Three, two, one, go!"

Harley ducked low, but moving in for Pam's waist. She grabbed hold, but Pam didn't move. Confused, Harley let her go, finding that Pam's face was red in a bright blush.

"Pam, you useless lesbian!" Selina threw her hands in the air.

Pam spread her hands in a "what can you do?" expression.

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"Pam, meet Rocco. Rocco, Pam. He's gonna be your new sparring partner." Harley patted the big guy on the back. "He's one of Joker's old henchmen. He ain't tight with him anymore, but we still talk."

"Charmed," he shook Pam's hand with his own gloved one.

Pam made a face at Harley. "Are you sure? You'd be the better candidate—"

"You just wanna cop a feel."

"Always, but I meant because you're immune to my poisons."

"Oh, Roc's gonna be okay. He's all covered up, and at least this way you won't be distracted! But don't you try to use your powers on him; Rocco's been in a committed relationship for two years."

"Anyone I know? What's her name?" Pam asked.

"Ralph."

"Oh," Pam nodded. "That's cool."

They got into ready positions. And they stood there. And stood there. Rocco began to sweat…oh goddamn it.

"I can't do it, Quinn. Can't hit a girl. Sorry."

"Aw, Roc, it's okay! What if she hit you?"

"No, I'm sorry. Nice to see you again. Would you ladies like to join Ralph and me for supper sometime next week?"

Harley and Pam stared at him a solid ten seconds. "Yeah, Roc, that sounds nice."

"Call me if you're available; we're gonna go to the old Italian place."

"The one the Falcones used to run? Didn't they turn it into a kids' restaurant?"

"Ay, some of the chefs are still there! And the pasta is better than ever; they have dinosaur meatballs now!"

"Sold! Book a table for four, my friend."

"Oh, they don't take reservations. You just have to get there before seven o'clock on school nights." He waved from the door and left.

"Well that's just _great_. _Now _how am I supposed ta toughen you up?" Harley flopped backward onto the gym mat, assuming her natural state of being: on the floor. Pam joined her.

"You don't have to do that. I'm plenty strong on my own. I don't know why you suddenly feel the need to do this. Usually, I can mostly follow your random whims, but this was out of the blue, even for you."

"I," Harley drew in a breath, her mouth forming a pout. "I just didn't want you to feel…to feel…what's the word I'm looking for?"

"Weak?"

"Nah, not that. You ain't ever been weak, Pam. Not to me. I meant _defenseless_. I just wanted to make you feel, um…safe."

Pam, a chuckle low in her throat, laced her fingers with Harley's. "I _do _feel safe. I meant it before, if my powers did just vanish overnight, though that likelihood is so low I stand a higher chance of going on a date with Penguin, I know you…and maybe Selina would have my back. I'd probably want to die, but you two would keep me from actually wanting to do it myself."

"I'd do everything I could to make you happy again, Red," Harley turned her head so that their noses touched. "D'you believe me?"

"Of course. But my powers also make me feel safe, Sweet Pea. That's why I prefer them over brawn. When I'm in costume, when I'm bending the plants to my will, when I'm surrounded in them…I feel stronger than I could have ever dreamed before I gained these abilities. So, uh, no hard feelings, but no more combat training."

"Oh," Harley pouted. "Well, since this mat is set up, wanna use it for something else?"

"Thought you'd never ask."


End file.
